


Nature of the Beast

by BreLakor



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:04:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2743724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreLakor/pseuds/BreLakor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the kinkmeme. (Spoilers for Solas romance/end of game)</p><p>Solas comes back and F!Lavellan finds out who he is, they have their dramatic/angsty 'OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL SOLAS' confrontation, kiss and make up etcetera. F!Lavellan finds Dread Wolf Solas adorable, Solas refuses to admit that he likes having his ears scratched. Fluff ensues</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature of the Beast

To say he hadn’t been interested at all would have been a lie. He had been, but she hadn’t returned it. So he’d dealt with his feelings, moved on and been there for her when Solas left – not because he still had romantic feelings for Lavellan, but because what had previously been a crush, had since morphed into a caring, brotherly affection. He’d been there when the pieces had fallen apart, he’d comforted her and he swore if he ever saw that blasted elf again, he’d punch his pretty little face in for hurting her. And then Solas came back, sprang it on them who he really was, and her world fell apart a second time. It took every last ounce of Cullen’s self control not to beat the damn god, wolf, whatever he was, to a bloody pulp. He restrained himself up until now, though, because somehow he figured getting into a fight with the Dread Wolf wasn’t one he could win.

 

Instead, he took a sick sort of pleasure in watching how Solas seethed at him, how the elf glowered and burnt holes in the back of the templar’s head every time he saw him with Lavellan. Idiot didn’t know there was nothing romantic between them, but Cullen wasn’t about to tell him that. Solas deserved to suffer a bit longer for what he did.

 

Then, that evening while Cullen was strolling the gardens alone, Solas snapped and ambushed him. He didn’t even hear the elf stalking him until the templar felt the brunt of his magic slam him into the ground. It knocked the wind out of him but he jumped to his feet, held his ground and watched as Solas circled him, his eyes that had once been the purest crystal blue, now dark, wolfish and predatory.

 

“Didn’t wait two seconds after I left, did you?” the elf growled, and it was fitting that in that moment he sounded more bestial and wild than he did elven.

 

“I’m certain I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cullen replied, and so help him, it might get him killed, but he had to taunt him, torture him any way he could for hurting her.

 

“I see the looks you give her.” There was magic flashing at Solas’ fingertips, as if he was having trouble controlling himself and his rage. “Perhaps you weren’t aware, but wolves do not share. And we do not take kindly to those that move in on our mates.”

 

“Oh? That’s strange.” Cullen rubbed his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Considering, after all, you were the one that left her.”

 

“It was for her own good!” Solas shouted so loud he was fairly certain half the keep would have heard him. Cullen couldn’t help but grin.

“Yes, you keep saying that.” His grin vanished and he stared at the elf pointedly, arms crossing against his chest. “But someone had to be there to pick up the pieces after you broke her.”

 

He’d pushed the elf over the edge this time. Fire lashed from Solas’ fingertips, his face contorted into poorly contained rage. Cullen was grateful he had the foresight to bring his shield and raised it to deflect the flames as they spat and licked at the metal.  When they subsided, he cautiously lowered his guard. He shouldn’t have, because Solas pounced on him, fully transformed into a white wolf and pinned him to the ground. Fangs bore at the templar’s neck, a deep growl rumbling in the back of the wolf’s throat until a furious, disbelieving voice interrupted them.

 

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” It was testament to how angry Lavellan was that she swore, for she rarely did unless she was really pissed off.

 

As if realising that mauling the Inquisiton’s commander to death would be a bad idea, Solas pulled back and slipped effortlessly into his natural form. The scowl on his features refused to budge, though. Cullen was fairly certain he’d never quite seen anyone that angry before.

 

“Word of advice before you do anything stupid again,” Cullen started with a pointed look at Solas, “There was never anything between me and Lavellan. But so help me, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give anything to make you hurt as badly as she is.”

 

“I have hurt tenfold what any of you could ever experience,” Solas hissed.

 

“Oh for the love of-” Cullen shook his head, his resolve snapping as he levelled a punch at the elf, trying to suppress a grin as he heard Solas’ nose crack and blood spill onto his knuckles. Then, the templar walked away, promising that if he found Lavellan in tears later that evening, he’d come back and he wouldn’t be so considerate the second time round.

 

o0o

 

“Fenedhis!” Solas growled as he set his nose straight and let magic flow from his blood stained hands to close his wound. “Ignorant foolish humans. Toying with things they barely understand-”

 

“Are you quite done?” Lavellan interrupted, and the only thing that felt appropriate was to cross her arms and glare at him.

 

“No,” he snapped and the look he gave her was so volatile she wondered how she’d ever thought he’d loved her. “But I suspect chasing after your idiot of a commander and ripping the arteries from his neck would only instigate a manhunt.”

 

“You would be correct. Especially given that the only reason any of us are tolerating you is because we need you around to fix the whole fucking mess you started in the first place.”

 

Solas spat blood from his mouth. “Thank you dearly for the reminder.”

 

She held his gaze for several moments, but then he scowled and looked away, made a move to leave and she lunged forward, grabbed him by the sleeve of his ridiculous pyjamas and yanked him towards her. It wasn’t close enough to make it suggestive, but just enough distance to make her point as she spoke.

 

“You are _not_ leaving a second time without an explanation.”

 

“On the contrary, I-”

 

She fisted a hand in the front of his clothes and slammed him against a garden wall in a split second, trapping him under her, even if she doubted she could hold him in place if he really wanted to be free. He seemed to consider the option of overpowering her for a moment, but then the fury in his eyes faded and his brow creased, the same regretful expression dancing over his features that she remembered so well from the night he broke her heart.

 

“Why did you leave?”

 

He laughed bitterly, as if the answer was obvious, and when he realised it wasn’t, he sighed. “Because you would never have loved me if you knew the truth, and you would have found out eventually.”

 

“No, that’s what you assumed,” she replied angrily. “You couldn’t even begin to imagine how I’d react because you never bothered to find out until now.”

 

“Are you truly going to try and convince me you wouldn’t have loathed me, wouldn’t have been furious that you’d been letting the Dread Wolf share your bed for months while he was deceiving you?” He shook his head and when he spoke next it was bitter and full of remorse. “I am the one that your people tell stories of to scare their children. I am the one they blame for their fall from grace. I am the monster in your people’s nightmares. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have hated me on principle.”

 

“Yet none of what the Dalish think about you is really true is it?”

 

He hesitated, pursed his lips and then sighed. “Barely any of it is. But no elf raised by the Dalish, taught to hate me their whole life, would believe that.”

 

“I do,” she challenged. He chuckled softly, but there was no humour in it.

 

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

 

“I love you, as you are, without the mask,” she started but her voice broke, her fist loosening from where it had been balled in his clothes. “Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

 

“Because you _shouldn’t_.”

 

“ But I do.” He only stared at her, unreadable and she waited, hoped he might return it. Nothing came for minutes and, defeated, she stepped back, trying to hold back the tears that were stinging at her eyes because even after everything she thought maybe they could have salvaged their broken relationship. Each passing moment, each word that dripped from his lips told her he didn’t feel the same.

 

And so she walked away, her heart aching for a second time, until he caught her hand and whispered softly, “Vhenan.”

 

She couldn’t face him but he stepped in front of her and when she ducked her head away from his gaze, he caught her face in his hands, forced her to look at him as a tear rolled down her cheek.

 

“This, us... it shouldn’t have happened.” He paused, a rueful look dancing across his features. “Yet it did. What we had, what we _have_ , it was real. But you are a mortal... and I am not.”

 

It was happening all over again; she knew this speech even if the words, it was all the same. She couldn’t, not again, until-

 

“And despite that...” He smiled gently, caught her tear with his thumb and traced her cheekbone. “I would rather spend a fraction of my life with you and cherish the memories every time I sleep, than spend eternity never having loved you.”

 

“Solas...” she whispered as he carefully released her, his fingers twisting together as if he were nervous.

 

“If you would have me?” he added softly.

 

She wasn’t entirely sure what overcame her, but she raised a hand and slapped him hard across his face. He winced, and then stared at her dumbfounded. But she could only grin, mutter a teasing, “Do you really think that question is necessary? You _know_ the answer,” pull him towards her and crash a kiss to his lips.

 

He startled at first, but then, as if it had only been yesterday and not weeks since they last embraced, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back desperately, longingly. He carried her up every flight of stairs to her room, lavished attention on every part of her body, whispered in her ear and held her in his arms until there couldn’t be even a shred of doubt in her mind that he loved her wholly and completely.

 

o0o

 

She could watch him for days while he slept, run her hands over every curve of his body, trace every scar. He was powerfully built for an elf, or maybe that was because he wasn’t really the kind of elf she was used to. Stronger as well. Taller. She hadn’t noticed it when he wore his robes or pyjamas all the time, but now that he lay beside her naked, with only the blankets tangled in his legs, she realised how different he looked. Taut skin over his chest that when she ran her hand over it, she could feel the muscle and strength within.

 

Her hand came up and cupped his face, her thumb gliding over his cheekbones and his lips, so much fuller than any other elf she’d met, and they’d kissed every inch of her body last night. When her fingers glided over the delicate skin behind his ear, his nose wrinkled and then a smile tugged over his features.

 

Surprised, and more than the slightest bit interested, she caressed the spot again and he leant into her touch, a contented sigh falling from his lips. His eyes fluttered open moments later and he stilled, a frown gracing his features as he stared at her, almost... confused.

 

She grinned and rubbed the same spot. Try as hard as he might, he couldn’t mask the look of content that danced over him. “I didn’t realise you liked having your ears scratched,” she teased, and then added purposefully, “Dread Wolf.”

 

“I do _not_ like to have my ears scratched,” he scoffed and caught her wayward hand, pulling it away and trapping it against the bed. She scowled momentarily, but then smirked because they’d been down this route of denial before.

 

“Just like the Fade tongue, then? Does it only count if you enjoy it when you’re a wolf?”

 

He stared at her dumbfounded for several moments. “We are not going there, vhenan.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because if you are telling me that you’re the sort who finds animals... stimulating,” the way he said it, it was like a foul taste in his mouth, “Then you are not the woman I thought you were. And I do not mean that in a good way.”

 

“Of course not!” She giggled and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips. He followed her, tried to hold onto it and make it something more, but she pulled away, teased him. “But I might find them cute.”

 

Solas sighed, rolled his eyes and when she laughed he caught her off guard, caught her by the waist and climbed over her. He pinned her arms over her head, leant down to kiss her but she twisted under him and rolled them off the bed, which, in hindsight was perhaps not the wisest idea. The floor was hard and cold and they landed on it in a tangle of arms and sheets, Lavellan yelping in surprise and Solas grunting as his back slammed into the banisters of the staircase.

 

Then they heard the rushing footsteps up the stairs, the worried shouts of Cassandra from the commotion, her adoptive mother hen, and they both scrambled for the blankets to cover themselves. Lavellan won and Solas protested as she refused to share and it was all he could do to awkwardly sit in a manner that at least allowed him to cover the worst of his nudity. When Cassandra reached the top of the stairs, she stared at them, dumbfounded for several seconds at the two naked elves, only one of which was wrapped up in blankets.

 

“ _Solas_?” she asked in a strangled voice eventually, as if she’d never quite caught onto the fact he’d been sleeping with the Inquisitor months earlier, and the fact they were doing so now shouldn’t have been such a huge surprise either.

 

“Good morning, seeker,” he replied pleasantly and Cassandra’s face flushed such a deep red Lavellan swore there wouldn’t be any blood left in the rest of her body.

 

“You, here-” the seeker stuttered and then blurted out, “Are you fornicating with the Inquisitor?”

 

“Quite so,” he replied bluntly and shrugged, before realising such an action may inadvertently give Cassandra an eyeful of something he rather wished she would never see. “I was under the impression it was common knowledge in Skyhold, given how much your companions like to gossip. I will concede we took a break after defeating Corypheus, for obvious reasons. But, now here we are again.”

 

“And what if you were to get her with child?” Cassandra asked, her voice becoming increasingly shrill. “Then what?”

 

“Seeker, you wound me, there has already been one god baby, I _take_ precautions.”

 

Cassandra stared at him for what might easily have been several minutes. Then, her features contorted into frustration and she stomped down the stairs, muttering annoyed to herself, “Why am I always the last one to find out these things?”

 

“You’ve known for weeks, Cassandra,” Lavellan called out, “What did you think Varric’s latest book was based off?”

 

“That was-” Cassandra’s voice cut off in a shrill gasp. “About you two?!” There was a sound not unlike her pummelling a fist into her other hand. “I will murder that dwarf!”

 

o0o

 

He went with her everywhere in the coming weeks, and there were many places for them to visit. Problems to fix never stopped appearing, especially when half of them were his fault to start with. And through it all, he never left her side. He slept in her tent every night, and he was there every morning when she woke. But that night she was restless. Her eyes fluttered open, the sky was still dark and the moon shining, her bedroll was cold and he wasn’t beside her, his arms not holding her, his warmth missing.

 

She panicked, didn’t even think to put on her armour and all but leapt out of her tent. Then she saw the paw prints in the dirt. She followed them, tracked him as she had done for years with her clan until she found him. A giant white wolf, sitting on a ledge just outside their camp. He was watching. Guarding her, even, she realised. She wondered if he did it every night or if tonight was special.

 

She approached, but he could have heard her miles away. He stared for a few moments, his eyes animalistic and predatory, but still the same calm blue she recognised so well. When she got closer, she reached out, her hand gliding along his soft fur but he stiffened, pulled away, embarrassed.

 

“It’s okay,” she whispered and cupped his face, pressed a kiss to his forehead and when she felt him relax, she wrapped her arms around his body, embraced him even if she was tiny in comparison. He lowered his head, pressed it against her back as she nestled into his fur. Never before had she felt something so soft, or seen anything such a pure, untarnished shade of white.

 

He slipped into his elven form after several minutes, his arms holding her tight against his body and her head pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

 

“You don’t like people seeing you like that, do you?” she asked eventually.

 

“No, I do not.” He sighed deeply and pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “It is as the wolf where I am free, unbound, where I can be... at peace.”

 

“But you’re ashamed of it,” she answered carefully.

 

“I have done terrible things as the Dread Wolf, vhenan,” he replied with a frown. “I have committed crimes you do not even know of, atrocities that have been lost to time. It is my pride, my sin... and my burden. It is not something you should see.”

 

“I _want_ to see.”

 

He shook his head. “Vhenan, no-”

 

She pressed a finger to his lips, silenced him and pushed a kiss to his forehead in the same spot she’d done before. He smiled faintly, took her hand in his and stepped back, gestured across the horizon.

 

“There are places I could show you beyond your wildest dreams.”

 

“Take me there.”

 

He grinned, his eyes flashing in the moonlight before he slipped back into his wolf form. He towered over her but he leant down so she could reach up and climb onto his back, one hand fisting in his fur for support. With the other, she trailed it along one of his ears, scratched him in the same spot as before and received a soft, pleased rumble vibrating in the back of his throat.

 

“I knew you were lying. You do like it,” she laughed as he howled long, beautiful and melodic. It didn’t matter to her what he’d done in the past, she could never stop loving him nor he her, even when they’d both tried not to. 

 

o0o

 

“I just need to get one thing straight,” Sera announced with hands on her hips and a very serious look on her features.

 

Lavellan glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised as she continued to absentmindedly stroke the white wolf who slept beside her, his head in her lap. The garden had been quiet this afternoon until Sera had showed up.

 

“All this time you’ve, what, been fucking a god or something? That’s just... just messed up, that is!”

 

Lavellan shrugged. Sera stared at her incredulously.

 

“Does he have a hairy dick?” she asked after a few moments.

 

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Lavellan replied with a gape. 

 

“I mean, I know he’s bald and everything when he’s an elf, but look at him!” Sera gestured towards the wolf. “You could make a flipping carpet out of all that fur.”

 

“He’s just like any other elf.” _Except bigger_ , she thought with a sly grin, because Sera didn’t need to know that little fact.

 

“Well I just lost that bet to Bull,” Sera grumbled to herself and stomped off, before freezing as Lavellan called out.

 

“You realise Solas can still understand everything you say when he’s the Dread Wolf, right?”

 

“Oh, fuck, Andraste’s tits-” Sera turned around and pointed a finger at the Inquisitor. “But he’s sleeping now, yeah? Can’t hear a thing. Don’t you dare tell him anything I said when he wakes up.”

 

“I’ll... consider it,” Lavellan teased and the other elf scoffed at her.

 

“You better consider it in my favour or they’ll be bees in your room tonight, and then you won’t be able to fuck him all night long.” When Lavellan stared at her, Sera added with a chuckle, “Don’t pretend you don’t. Everyone knows you do. You should close your damn window more often.”

 

Then, Sera trudged off, leaving the Inquisitor to furiously blush as the wolf slowly roused. Solas twisted onto his back, stretched and slipped back to his elven form so that he was staring up at her from her lap, a smile painted across his features as he reached up and stroked her cheek. Then he noticed her blush and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity as his fingers trailed her jawline.

 

“You seem embarrassed, vhenan,” he pointed out.

 

“It’s nothing,” she deflected. “But maybe make sure the window is closed in my quarters tonight.”

 

Solas blinked and then looked bashful. “Ah.”

 

“Ah indeed,” she replied as he pulled himself out of her lap and sat upright, yawning as he rubbed the back of his neck. “By the way...”

 

He gestured to her, urging her to continue.

 

“How long have you been watching over me, as the Dread Wolf, while I slept?”

 

His ears tinged red and he chuckled awkwardly before replying. “Longer than I would like to admit.”

 

“How long?”

 

“From the very start,” he admitted and reached for her hand, tracing her palm with his thumbs. “At first it was a practicality, you had templar, mages, bandits, herds of people trying to kill you while you slept... and while you bathed.”

 

 She pursed her lips. She hadn’t even known, they’d rarely been attacked at camp. Now she realised it was because of him. “And after that?”

 

“After that...” He smiled ruefully, pressed a kiss to her hand and then gazed at her with what she could only describe as irrevocable, helpless love. “I watched you because I told myself that, perhaps, if I saw you bathe, saw you...” He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. “Indulge yourself, then just maybe it would satiate my desire for you, so I could easier discourage you from pursuing a relationship with me.”

 

“But it didn’t work,” she pointed out, her cheeks flushing at the knowledge that he’d seen her so intimately, far before they’d ever been together or even kissed. There’d been so many times when she’s pleasured herself thinking of him, and more than half of the time she’d groaned his name during it. He’d known all along. She could only find that intensely arousing.

 

“No, it did not.” He shook his head and laughed dryly. “It did the exact opposite. It made me want you even more.”

 

“Are you sure you’re the elven god of rebellion?”

 

He frowned at her. “Yes, why?”

 

“Because I’m starting to think you’re the god of can’t-make-a-single-plan-without-it-backfiring-on-him,” she taunted.

 

He scowled at her and she laughed, then his features twisted into a smirk and he stood, hooked an arm under her legs and picked her up effortlessly. She squirmed in vain as he carried her out of the garden, demanding that he release her but knowing there was little she could do when fighting against someone who wasn’t even mortal. So she did the only thing she could think of, and scratched him behind his ear, grinning as he groaned in pleasure.

 

“For that, I will leave the windows open in your room tonight on purpose,” he growled, but she knew there was no malice in it because even as he spoke, she heard the amusement and lust in his voice threatening to spill over, “So that everyone might hear you scream my name.”

 

She could only laugh and kiss his cheek. He could do what he wanted with her tonight, because she knew, now, how to make her wolf beg for her.


End file.
